As if Tony Gwynn didn't have enough in his glove, dealing day-to-day with college kids, trying to build a baseball power at San Diego State, attempting to do the coaching job he thought would be as easy for him as ripping a base hit though the 5.5 hole. Now another ugly boil has come up on the game's neck.

“They come to me,” says Gwynn, the Hall of Famer. “Why would A-Rod do that? I don't have an answer, except not to do what he did. When you play the game, there's an imaginary line, and you know in your mind that, if you cross it, everybody's going to start questioning you.

“I tell 'em that, if they go down that road, there are going to be consequences. In my seven years coaching here, we've had a few guys do it and they've paid the price.”

Among the 104 major league players who tested positive for steroids in 2003 – the tests were supposed to be confidential – only Rodriguez has been identified. The Aztecs want to know the names of the other 103. So does Gwynn.

“Of course I'd love to see it (a list),” he says. “I'd rather have 'em all come out at once rather than one at a time. Once one guy gets leaked, we're going to have this discussion all over again.”

Gwynn won't put his blessing on Rodriguez's weak confession.

“If you did it, you did it, so say you did it,” he says. “I didn't buy it. I don't think a lot of people bought it. Not knowing what he was taking? That his cousin helped him? He shouldn't have to write it up and read it to us. It left a bad taste in people's mouths. I just hope he can handle the heat now and be the player he's always been.”

Gwynn knows there's a major perception problem, that the broad brush is being used on players who made their money during the “Steroid Era.” He was a part of it. And, while he had a feeling others around him were using, he kept to himself.

“I didn't know – I suspected,” he says “I think it can be said that a lot of people – players, media, managers, coaches, owners and general managers – suspected. I didn't pay a whole lot of attention in the '80s, but in the early '90s, all of a sudden guys were getting bigger and balls were flying out the opposite way. So you ask yourself the question: 'Do you want to do it?' No. So you compete harder. That's what I did.

“I knew that, whatever success I enjoyed, I didn't do anything wrong. I worked with Cammy (Ken Caminiti, who died of a drug overdose) every day. In Houston he had been a 10-15 homer guy. He told me he wanted to get better. I told him to follow Merv (then-Padres hitting coach Merv Rettenmund) and you'll get better. He started hitting 30, 40 home runs. I thought he was just working at it. I was pretty naive.”

I'd bet what little I have that Gwynn never took anything stronger than a soft drink, but he played during that era, and he can't help but wonder how history will perceive him.

“I had a good six or seven years in before it (steroids) became prevalent,” he says, “but, no question, I played through it. Fifty years from now people may look at my numbers and say I was part of it, the way my numbers got better when I was 32. I did it the right way, but they'll say I had to be one of those guys.”

In 1982, when Gwynn broke in, amphetamines were the preferred drugs, as they were long before that and until recently, when baseball began testing for them.

“I'm sure Babe Ruth did something,” Gwynn says, laughing. “My first spring training, guys were taking 'em. The first day! I'm so hyper, I knew I couldn't take 'em, but as my career progressed, that was the constant. The stuff was always around. I used to tell the guys, 'You're 23, why are you doing that?' I tried to talk 'em out of it. It wasn't happening.

“I'm glad they're testing for 'em now. I always thought those were more of a problem than steroids. It's true. They'd take 'em with coffee and soda. A lot of guys all over the league, not just the Padres.

“I was driven, though. I wanted to be the best I could be. I spent a lot of time with the video machine (he was a pioneer) and in my room studying. I didn't have the greatest ability. I'm not perfect, but I was boring. I'd go to the park early, do my work, play the game and then go home and study. I had to find creative ways to get better. I talked to great players. The first time I talked to Ted Williams I thought I knew everything, like when I started on this job. I didn't know jack.”

All Gwynn can do is try to instill the proper values in his kids.

“So many guys out there have been above board,” he says, “but they get mixed in with guys who did it.”